Let me tell you one more...

My paternal grandpa, who was about equal parts Scotch-Irish and Native American could spin a yarn. As a child and an adolescent, I hardly stood still for one, much less one more. As an adult, I wish I had listened to all of them. Often. Like, over and over.
So many of them, I can't remember the details of.
My grandmother wrote hers down. We  have them, scattered through books and journals that someday I hope to combine to create a book.
Someone gave me a book recently called "Scrapbooking your Life" that contains instructions on how to add photos and other memorabilia. Her story(ies) should be easy enough to preserve.
Grandpa's= not so much.
It occurs to me, though, as I write this, that while I do have my Grandmother's fondness for writing, I also have my Grandfather's bent for telling humorous stories. Hence, this blog...